


Revolutions

by avarand



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Slavery, obikin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avarand/pseuds/avarand
Summary: At eighteen Anakin feels like a failure. Unable to confront his past or see a future with himself in the Order, he leaves his only friend and Master. He only planned to stay on Tatooine long enough to free his mother, but the horrors of slavery require an answer. A revolutionary on the Outer-Rim planet he swore he hated, he's about to find that the Force has another meeting in store for him with Obi-Wan Kenobi.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: So there are mentions of childhood sexual assault in this. Nothing graphically described but also mentions of the long term effects that has and a mention of suicide. So if that might be triggering for you please don't read.
> 
> Also RAINN is the National Sexual Assault Hotline and you can call for free 24/7 at 800-656-HOPE if you or someone you care about are having a hard time.

Anakin couldn’t take it. The pressure, constantly being a disappointment to the Council. Being so alone at the Temple. Wanting the one person he shouldn’t want. Obi-Wan cared for him but even his Master was frustrated with him too often. Anakin was eighteen. He’d thought so foolishly that leaving Tatooine to be a Jedi would change his life for the better. But then Qui-Gon had been killed and he and Obi-Wan were stuck together, neither of them suited to working with the other to meet the demands of Jedi life. 

And stars, he couldn't believe that Obi-Wan had even taken him on, given the amount of grief he still suffered in the wake of his own Master’s loss. The other padawans at the Temple wanted nothing to do with him. He was powerful and it scared many of them, plus he hadn’t grown up in the Temple and much of its culture was difficult for him. It wasn’t his fault he was strong though. He excelled at ‘saber technique but that seemed to be about the only thing he was good for, and Force did he ever hate being the ‘Chosen One’. He couldn’t even be a normal irresponsible padawan and go to some seedy bar for drinks without having a holocamera stuck in his face. 

He ran a hand through his hair absently. They’d just come back from Naboo and he’d seen Padme again for the first time in nearly ten years. He’d put her on such a pedestal in his mind and drove Obi-Wan mad with how eager he was to see her again. And then...she’d been another politician. A pretty one full of compassion and impressively fearless, but certainly not the angel he’d created in his boyhood imagination. 

Falling back on his bed, he didn’t know what he would do. Worse than not feeling much for Padme, he’d felt far too much for Obi-Wan. Which of course was the dumbest thing he could do. Obi-Wan was polished and sophisticated. If he ever suspected Anakin’s feelings he’d have a gentle “you’re going through your teenage years and such infatuations are perfectly normal” for Anakin. And that would be so much worse than just saying that it was inappropriate and not the Jedi way. He may not know much but he knew himself and he knew when he loved someone. Every time the older Jedi stood near him he wanted to lean in, brush his hand or press his lips to his temple. He’d been holding out against hope that it would go away but the mission to Naboo had only further confirmed it. It made him even more miserable than usual. Not even spending hours on ‘saber forms distracted him from such thoughts. 

Kriff. The Jedi way. Where you ignored your emotions and let them fester. Theoretically they were supposed to “give them to the Force”, but Anakin had never had that ability and was skeptical that anyone did. When he was at Padme’s home on Naboo he’d pulled a book off the shelf. He couldn’t remember the title but there had been a phrase that stuck with him. “There are no handsome prisons.” And the Temple felt like one. He knew of the Dark Side and the hedonism with which Sith used their emotions. It called to him sometimes, though he’d never told anyone. Not in a way that demanded he succumb, but as a reminder that it was there, a tool just like the Light. 

In his nightmares though he often pulled the Dark around him subconsciously. His early life on Tatooine had been so full of trauma. He’d been a thing. A moderately useful thing but only worth what he could make for his owner. Obi-Wan knew he did it, could feel him doing it through their Bond, and would admonish him the next morning. But he couldn’t tell him what the nightmares were about. What he’d been through had made him something less somehow and the Dark was there to remind him of that. Before he’d been of use as a mechanic he’d been treated the way so many children in slavery were. Rented out to people willing to pay their owners. His mother had protected him as long as she could, trying to put herself in that position instead to spare her child. But there were people that didn’t simply want sex, they wanted to use children. She’d wept furiously when he’d been led off somewhere by one of Watto’s clients. The first time it happened he was maybe five or six. He’d had no idea what was happening, which he supposed was part of the appeal for the client. Every time it happened Watto would beat her for her wailing and that night they’d both sit silently, nursing wounds they weren’t sure how to treat. 

He couldn’t tell Obi-Wan. Couldn’t bear the look of pity from the person he loved. Sometimes he still wept. The anger and confusion and the fucking unfairness of such a life too much to bear at moments. He’d rather be considered moody and angry than deserving of pity though. He forced himself to stop thinking about it, at least for this moment, if he was really planning what he thought he was planning.

Obi-Wan was at another Council meeting, so he was alone in their rooms. He used the Force to take his lightsaber apart for the thousandth time. He pulled the tiny kyber crystal out, letting the rest of the parts fall onto his bed. He hadn’t found his crystal like most padawans. Instead he’d been on a mission with Obi-Wan on some gods forsaken frozen moon. They were sent to help Republic scientists whose base had lost heating and proper air circulation. The base had been underground as nothing could survive the temperatures and winds on the surface. After repairing the engines and boilers Anakin had become bored of the small talk his Master was so fond of and had wandered off. He’d taken a lift down into the planet where the geological excavations had been going on. He’d gotten lost in the caverns but hadn’t particularly cared, knowing that Obi-Wan would find him if he couldn’t make his own way back. 

Then he’d heard something. It was a voice but more than a voice. It called out to him and he’d followed, only a little scared thinking of Tatooine legends of mythical beings in the desert who lured people to their deaths. Eventually he’d found the source, the crystal currently in his hand. When he touched it it had shown him things. He saw himself as older, eyes turned yellow and fighting against Obi-Wan to the death. He saw his mother, dying in the desert. But he saw other versions of events as well. Visiting his mother in her old age, her demanding to see her grandchild. Himself happy, lifting a small child up, having a home and family of his own. An uprising, his own righteous fury burning bright. Someone destroying the Jedi Temple, slaughtering younglings and Council Members alike. It had all been so confusing and fast, too many voices at once. The crystal had swirled with dark and light currents inside it but when he showed it to his Master it was only bluish and plain. But looking at it now, it was in flux again, almost alive. That had to mean something. Obi-Wan had said it did when he’d first found it. 

And he was back to his Master. He hated himself just a little bit for loving the man. It was awful to feel that way and constantly keep it from their Training Bond. Watch him look at women like Knight Tachi and The Duchess Satine and know he’d always be a slave from a backwater planet, rough around the edges and with a bad temper. Tall and broad and impatient and not anything like the petite and cultured types Obi-Wan went for. The worst part was that he knew it was love. Lust he could handle, idealization he had experience with, but love? It was the fact that drove home all his other failings as a Jedi. Too attached, too old, too damaged, too reckless. The Council didn’t trust him and neither did most of the Temple. If he couldn’t trust the Order how was he supposed to fight for them? Master Windu certainly made his dislike of Anakin clear, which was a shame as Anakin thought he’d like to learn from the man. And when he wasn’t on a mission, the loneliness of Temple life ate at him. Obi-Wan was always busy with the Council or his peers, or he was sitting silently near the resting place of his Master’s lightsaber, still mourning.

Sighing again he reassembled his ‘saber. When Obi-Wan came back he’d want to meditate and Anakin had been very skillfully dodging performing that activity together. He’d rather lose a limb than let his Master feel his petty jealousy and insecurities, not to mention his more authentic emotions regarding the man. He remembered another phrase, one his mother had said to him when she’d been treating a nasty wound that Watto had given her. “I never saw a wild thing feel sorry for itself.” And well, the Council was always bemoaning their half-wild, half-civilized ‘Chosen One.’ 

The Temple didn’t have any locked doors. Leaving would be easy. He had his freedom and he could get his mother’s too. He was a pilot now and a damned good mechanic. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find work. He stood, smiling at his own rash planning. He’d leave a note for Obi-Wan. He owed the man at least that much. Especially since he’d be siphoning some of his credits. It was late so not many people would be out and about in the Temple. He changed into his favorite pair of civilian clothes, stuffing the few belongings he had into his rucksack. He looked in the ‘fresher mirror and grinned. He’d always hated the frankly unattractive padawan hair cut. Then his grin faltered. Was he really doing this? Just leaving the life he’d known for almost ten years?

He had to, he realized. He didn’t leave Tatooine to be a different kind of slave. There was something in him that had always demanded he find his own way and when he thought of stuffing that part of himself down, he saw yellow eyes and fire in the back of his mind. The person he loved didn’t love him and that pain was acute, but there was still a galaxy out there.

He grabbed the scissors that Obi-Wan used to trim his beard and cut his small pony tail off, followed by his padawan braid. He left the braid with a note on the common room couch. His heart ached but this was right. He couldn’t stay for one person. Ultimately he couldn’t stay for anyone except himself and he no longer wanted to be there. Couldn’t be there. He felt guilty for leaving Obi-Wan since Qui-Gon’s last wish was that he be trained. But he wasn’t a nine year old boy in awe of men with swords of light anymore. The idea of staying felt soul-crushing.

No one batted an eye as he left through a side entrance after making a stop in the hangar. He wasn’t going anywhere without Artoo, after all. He made his way to the the shuttle system and the interstellar transit hangar that was only a half hour away.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan came back from another arduous Council meeting with a headache. He was suspicious when he opened the door and couldn’t hear any dubious mechanical projects or terrible music from Anakin’s room. He knocked and entered, but the room was empty. So help him if his apprentice had run off for the lower levels again he wouldn’t give a damn about punishment not being the Jedi way. Anakin was becoming impossible to predict lately. He noticed that the room looked off though. Jedi didn’t have material possessions but Anakin had kept one or two things as many did in their youth. A drawing of his mother that had been quite good usually rested on his nightstand, and there was a small carving that Senator Amidala had given him just recently of a tree native to her planet. And his prized tool kit for working on smaller projects like Artoo. All three were gone and Obi-Wan felt panic in his chest. 

He flung the closet open and it was bare except for the crumpled standard-issue robes at the bottom. All of Anakin’s civilian clothes were gone as well. Had his padawan just left? There had to be an explanation. He wouldn’t abandon the Order. Would he?

Obi-Wan went back to the common room with no idea what to do. And that’s when he saw it. The severed braid lying on a datapad. He wanted to throw up. He knew if he read that data pad it would make it final. But he couldn’t simply not know. With a shaking hand he picked it up, the braid falling to the couch. 

“Obi-Wan,

I’m sorry to leave this way without a real goodbye because you deserve one. But I had to do this. I don’t belong at the Temple. The Council was probably right that I was too old to be trained. But thank you for trying anyway. I’ve felt love and I won’t give it up for a life of isolation and frustration at the Temple. Please don’t look for me as this is my decision. I’m sorry for disappointing you and hope you can forgive me for that. I don’t feel at peace with the Force the way a Jedi should and I can’t stay. I’ll never forget the kindness you showed me. 

-Anakin”

Obi-Wan sat down heavily and picked up the braid. He fingered the beads in it, remembering how Anakin had hated the haircut but had smiled brightly every time he earned a bead. Putting his hand to his mouth he realized he was crying. He hadn’t raised the boy but he’d guided him for the past almost ten years and now he was simply gone. He felt hurt, angry that someone would find his care so lacking and angry at himself for not being enough. 

He knew Anakin had felt alone often and Obi-Wan had been too wrapped up in his own feelings to properly pay attention to his padawan. The boy had no friends at the Temple and was frequently angry or depressed. Outside of combat training he flinched at touch. He’d done what he could but not really, not enough. He hadn’t cried since Qui-Gon had passed and now here he was, feeling that both ends of his life as a Jedi were missing. And it was his fault. 

Love. Anakin had spoken of love. Did he mean romantic love? He’d been incredibly taken with Senator Amidala as a child but he hadn’t seemed overly amorous on Naboo. Or perhaps Obi-Wan just hadn’t noticed. Anakin asked him not to look but could he just live his life not knowing what became of him? He’d have to tell the Council in the morning. Jedi and Padawans could leave. They certainly didn’t keep their ranks against their will. He couldn’t bear the thought of waking up tomorrow and not hearing Anakin’s grumbling reluctance to get out of bed or his sarcastic quips. He had failed so spectacularly. He realized he was still holding the braid. The only thing he had left of Anakin, the young man whose Force signature shone like a sun. Who sometimes sat with him at Qui-Gon’s symbolic place in the crypts and had been so desperate to prove himself. 

Obi-Wan didn’t sleep at all that night. His mind was frantic with thoughts of tracking Anakin down, talking sense into him and making him come back. But then he thought of how lonely he knew his charge was, how unhappy. There was nothing he could do to make things better for him, not really. He’d mistaken those emotions for teenage hormones and the pressure put on him by the Council, but it was clearly much worse than that. He’d felt Anakin’s pull to the Dark during his nightmares. He refused to discuss them and maybe Obi-Wan should have pressed the matter. But he hadn’t wanted Anakin to think of him as an overbearing older brother. He didn’t think he’d process this loss if he spent the rest of his life meditating. 

In the morning he saw the Council, showed them the note and the severed braid. 

“Very disturbing this is,” Yoda said. “But unexpected, it is not. More vigilant we all should have been.” 

Mace proposed bringing him back. “If he’s the Chosen One than he needs to be here! Force knows the boy gets under my skin but he needs our guidance or he’ll Fall! And this won’t sit well with the media.” 

Obi-Wan was a man who controlled his emotions, but he saw red at that. “He’s not a commodity for the holocameras! We failed him. I especially failed him! He was miserable here. He had no friends, no time to adjust to Temple life. And I-I wasn’t prepared to have a padawan. He felt resented by the Order and likely by me as well.” He hung his head after his outburst, thankful that at least he didn’t feel physically capable of crying again. 

“Correct, Jedi Kenobi is,” Yoda said. “But lost Skywalker may not be. Balance can be found in many ways. His path perhaps, is not with us. But less important it makes him not.” The old Master had his head down and was radiating sorrow. It made Obi-Wan feel better. So it was settled. They wouldn’t go after Anakin. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months passed, Obi-Wan had missions but time seemed to slide without him paying attention to what he was doing, though he hadn’t failed a deadline or objective yet. 

At the six month mark he’d contacted Senator Amidala and asked her if she’d heard from Anakin. Her brown eyes were filled with sadness as she reported that she hadn’t heard anything. Obi-Wan sighed. “I know he was fond of you. In his note he made mention of love. I thought perhaps he’d sought you out. I wouldn’t try and bring him back of course, I only wish to know he’s alright.” 

“I consider Anakin a friend. But he didn’t care for me that way. He was in love with someone, but it’s not up to me to tell you who. And it doesn’t matter as I know he’s not been in touch with that person, either.” 

“Thank you, anyway. If you ever do hear from him, I’d be grateful for a call just to know he’s alright.” 

“Of course, Knight Kenobi.” The call ended. So Anakin had been in love. He knew first hand what passion could do but he hadn’t gone to whoever he cared for. He’d eventually have to stop looking for signs of someone who didn’t want to be found, but that day wasn’t coming anytime soon. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a year since his padawan had left. Obi-Wan was on Mandalore for a political mission, trying to stave off a war. Chancellor Valorum was so far performing admirably with the help of Bail Organa and Padme Amidala. Padme didn’t trust her counterpart from Naboo, a man of great wealth named Sheev Palpatine who’d spent his life cloying for power. Obi-Wan couldn’t blame her. 

Satine was saying something to him but his thoughts were on Anakin. How they’d come here on missions a few times and Anakin had loved the history of the old warriors, their myths and battles blending seamlessly in the records. 

“Obi-Wan,” she put her hand on his chest. 

“I apologize. My thoughts have been scattered lately.” A year ago he may have appreciated the close physical contact but now, knowing Satine would stand by her people and not take up with a Jedi who only half meant it when he said he’d leave for her, it felt too intimate. 

“You miss your padawan.” It was a statement, and of course Satine would know. “I remember the two of you seemed very close.” 

“Yes. Well, not as close as I should have been.” 

“It’s not your fault. You can love someone deeply and still have to watch them walk away if their path diverges from yours.” 

“You speak wisely, as always,” he told her. “I suppose I should go talk to some of these bureaucrats about a shipping lane.” He sighed and walked off to complete his mission. 

That night, lying in bed, he thought about what Satine had said. About ‘loving someone deeply’. He had loved Anakin. Still did, he supposed, or he wouldn’t be wondering about him a year later. He loved the way he smiled when he got to pilot a speeder, loved his unbridled joy at mastering a ‘saber form. His drive to do the right thing in a galaxy full of dubious decisions, even if his temper got in his way sometimes. Was he- had he been in love with Anakin? Was that why he was always searching in his peripheral vision for a tall frame and a sarcastic smirk? He’d never been attracted to men but gender was hardly an issue. Was that why he kept Anakin’s padawan braid on him at all times as though it were more important than his lightsaber? Force, was that why Anakin ran? To get away from a Master who was fourteen years older and in love with his charge? The thought made him feel sick. 

But it was true. He’d been in love with Anakin. He had no idea when or how or why it had happened, only that the thought was there, uncovered and undeniable. He was still-he had to find him. He had to at least know that he wasn’t some lecherous cretin who’d chased a padawan away. But Padme said he’d loved someone. Perhaps she would tell him who. Though what if he had been the reason Anakin left? If that were true, he had no business ever contacting him again. He couldn’t inflict that kind of fear or pain on someone. He wanted to cry but the effort felt futile. He had to let Anakin go. He couldn’t keep living a half life because someone- someone he loved was gone. He to be a better Jedi, a better person. He’d never take a padawan ever again, but he could at least serve the Order as best he could. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been nearly three years since Anakin left. Obi-Wan still thought of him far too often but he’d stopped looking. There had nearly been a war, and it was evaded only because Senator Amidala and Senator Organa had brought their suspicions of Palpatine to the Temple. Three Council Members had lost their lives fighting the Sith Lord, but his death had brought peace. 

Well, peace to the Core Planets. Not every Outer Rim planet was as stable as Naboo. Padme had married just after the death of Palpatine. And of all people she had married Satine. They were now expecting their first child. Having spent time together while chasing rumors of Sith, he now considered them both close friends. Padme would quite likely become the youngest Chancellor in history. 

Obi-Wan frequently wondered about where Anakin was. If he was happy, if he had a family of his own perhaps. The media had long ago stopped giving theories on where the ‘Chosen One’ was. 

Obi-Wan sighed and looked at the file for his next mission. Of course it would be Tatooine. There was a revolution of sorts happening in Anchorhead, one of the largest cities on the dusty planet. Activists had been making shows of force, blowing buildings up and using an improvised technology to remove the tracker chips in slaves. They were making deals with pirates for weapons in the name of arming former slaves. Obi-Wan was supposed to go and broker a deal with the leader of the largest Hutt clan and the leaders of the abolitionist movement to ensure a free Tatooine. He couldn’t help the painful clenching in his chest when he thought about Anakin and how no one had fought for his freedom until Qui-Gon. 

He hoped to use this mission as a way to shake the ghost of his former padawan. If he could complete a mission on Tatooine and leave, it would be like proving he no longer agonized over the young man. 

He returned his attention to the dossier. Heeto was the hutt’s name. A notorious slaver with a reputation for making his enemies disappear. The leadership of the abolitionist movement, who called themselves only The Resistance, was three pronged. They were all human and all used aliases. Their faces were similarly unknown. The names they went by were Allecto, Tisiophone, and Megaera. He had to smile at that. The three furies of Mandalorian myth. Satine would approve. It was fitting for a slave rebellion to be furious, he thought. He would leave at first light. Surely negotiating between a slaver and former slaves would be a simple mission, he thought sarcastically. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin took his black mask off once he was inside the building they were currently using as headquarters. No one had followed him but you couldn’t be too sure. When he’d left the Jedi years ago he hadn’t planned on becoming a revolutionary. He’d simply wanted to buy his mom’s freedom and then take off, just the two of them to start over somewhere. 

But he couldn’t turn a blind eye to how bad Tatooine had become for all but a wealthy few. Watto was long dead but the hutt who owned his mother had been unwilling to sell her, no matter what Anakin had offered. So he’d stayed, and done one of the few things he was good at. He built something. It was crude and painful, but in the end he’d extracted the chip from his mother’s shoulder. Then he told the hutt in no uncertain terms that his mother was free. Then the goons had come at him. After cutting down half of the hutt’s private security team, he’d relented. 

It was his mother who told him she had to stay. That if she could help others then it was her duty. So Anakin had stayed, knowing it was his as well. The Force rarely spoke to him but he knew he needed to stay and fight. He’d spent late nights in empty warehouses, teaching slaves to use blasters and other weapons. How to engage in hand to hand combat. His mother ran a secret day care of sorts for enslaved children, providing care, literacy, and safety when their parents were at work. She also kept a blaster for anyone who came looking to “borrow” a child. For months they’d maintained that balance with the hutt, but he’d been training his own force to squash their attempts at even slight sovereignty and make an example of them. But they’d fought back, Anakin killing the slaver in the end. 

It had been a victory but one that made them unsafe as well. No one in power on Tatooine wanted a free population. Another former slave, a man about Anakin’s age by the name of Kast had approached him about starting a real revolt. There was a power vacuum now and they needed their own kind to be the ones to fill it. Kast was analytical and cunning, and reminded Anakin very much of Obi-Wan. He was dark haired but had the same look when he was solving his favorite kind of puzzle. He’d been the one to set up a Twi’lek freedom fighter named Avka as the new Chief of their little outpost so near Mos Espa. Avka was fierce and dedicated to the cause. More former slaves stayed on as her Council. She inspired people, had a gift of igniting fire in their bellies and she could take nearly anyone out with her staff. 

After a few months, scarred shoulders became badges of freedom and the tiny village thrived under Avka’s leadership. He and Kast decided to part ways, so that if an organized force came for them they wouldn’t squash the entire effort in one battle. Anakin would go to Mos Espa and Kast would go to Mos Doba. They’d each take people with them, but enough would stay so that their village, now called Freetown, had a population and solid leadership and defenders. Anakin had even reprogrammed some old battle droids to watch the borders. Their aim wasn’t fantastic but they served their purpose.

Mos Espa had been hard. It had taken months for Anakin to gain people’s trust. But once he did more and more people flocked to him. A simple take over wouldn’t work for a city like Mos Espa. So they’d built a rebellion. They used explosives to destroy the homes of prominent slavers, left graffiti marks on walls, and kept their faces covered. A former slave with some healing experience refined Anakin’s design and some metal workers mass produced it. The chips which tracked and could explode, killing a slave if they left their approved zones, were obsolete. 

In Mos Espa Anakin met Kanna. Younger than him but eager, he’d taught her nearly everything he knew and she proved to be a fast learner. Where Kast excelled at big picture thinking, Kanna was on details that no one else even thought of. She was essential to keeping their identities secret and their intel a step ahead of the slavers. Her dark hair, smooth brown skin, and bright eyes made people think her young and naive, and she relied on that frequently to her advantage.

Anakin’s mother had come with him and said she was proud of what he’d built. He told her he’d only built it because of her. 

After nearly a year of training, recruiting, and preparing, they’d taken the city. It had been bloody and drawn out but they’d done it. For a larger city Mos Espa had only a handful of real slavers. Once they’d been taken out of the picture the smaller player, the ones who used slaves to clean their homes or warm their beds, either fled or fought. And they were greatly outnumbered. There were less than twenty five thousand people in Mos Espa and over half were slaves. It had taken a week of fighting, bloodshed, tactical strikes, and bombings on both sides but they’d done it. Half the city seemed in ruins but they were free. People had lined up for weeks to have their chips removed afterwards. They’d buried the enslaved dead in a mass grave, with a memorial stone for the battle. The slavers were taken further out and burned. 

Watching the city rebuild under free will had been beautiful. People came together, kept the moisture farms going so everyone would have water, organized and passed out food and medicine like he and Kanna had trained them to in the weeks following combat. His mother began working with a man who’d lost his son in the battle. He was determined to keep Mos Espa free in his memory. He worked with Shmi teaching adults basic literacy and farming skills and before long they’d fallen in love. They made a home together in Mos Espa and younglings seemed to constantly be coming and going for lessons or just for some of his mom’s famous cooking. His mother was so happy and it made a part of him he thought was dead light up with joy to see it. 

When word of Mos Doba also being free had reached them, they’d rejoiced. A few weeks later Kast joined him in Mos Espa. Well, he dropped in with no warning on a class Anakin was teaching on combat. But they’d embraced as only brothers in arms could. Over drinks that night Kast told him about the losses they’d taken and the government they’d set up. Kast helped him ensure a similar foundation for Mos Espa. The collectives forming were good but they needed leadership that would last. 

He worked closely with Kast and Kanna, traveling back and forth to cities when needed and working closely with Avka and the democratically elected bodies of Mos Espa and Mos Doba. Between them and Freetown, trade was thriving under a free populace. There was more water than ever and schools were being built. Municipal buildings to store food for whoever needed it, educational programs in mechanics and medicine. Would be slavers who landed in their ports were chased out and a court system for grievances was even shaping up under Kanna. Two of the largest cities on the tiny planet were free now. His mother had found her home with Cliegg and the kids they’d unofficially adopted, but Anakin knew their fight wasn’t over. Both Kanna and Kast agreed that they wouldn’t stop until it was a planet-wide revolution. 

So with Shmi set to run the first school on Mos Espa, Anakin, Kast, and Kanna agreed they needed their next target to be the biggest yet. If they could take Anchorhead, the smaller cities would be much easier. 

Kanna scouted ahead to make contacts while Anakin and Kast waited in Mos Espa, planning out possible strategies and talking to folks who might want to follow them. 

One night he and Kast had been gifted a bottle of moonshine by a bartender with a scarred shoulder. They’d taken it back to where Kast was staying in a former brothel turned hotel. Anakin told him about being found by the Jedi and trained there, but how he’d lost faith and left. How the wounds of his past couldn’t heal on Coruscant and how he’d been stupid enough to fall in love with someone who wasn’t allowed to ever love him back. 

Kast could relate. He’d been born into slavery not too far from Anakin, as it turned out. He’d even heard of the human boy who could pod race. He worked on a moisture farm with his father and older sister until his sister was sold. He’d tried to find her but never had. His father had committed suicide after Kast had been rented out to the farm owner’s friend for a few hours. 

They were about halfway through the alcohol at the time and leaning heavily against each other. Anakin had never been able to talk about the horrors of his childhood with someone else who got it before. It was like a weight had been lifted. He’d pressed his forehead to Kast’s. It felt right, a symbol of drunken solidarity. Then he’d felt Kast’s hand come around the back of his neck and his friend looked at him. Anakin knew the other man wanted to kiss him and honestly, the thought was a pleasant one. So they’d kissed, and touched. And it wasn’t love but it was a kind of healing with someone else who understood flinching from an unexpected touch and rage crawling up the base of your brain for no reason. They were gentle with each other, frequently asking permission and not making sudden movements. 

Afterwards, with Kast in his arms and knowing his mother was free and happy, Anakin felt like more of a full human being than ever. He had been more at home in a war zone with explosions going off and his ‘saber in his hand than he thought he’d ever be sharing intimacy with another person. He felt less broken and knew that leaving the Jedi had been right. He still thought of Obi-Wan in a way that made something in him ache, but he wasn’t a lost, angry boy anymore. He was a freedom fighter with friends, a family, and a purpose. He smiled to himself. He was ‘Allecto’ and Kast was ‘Tisiphone’, more often called ‘Ti’ by The Resistance. Kanna was like his sister, who loved her alias of ‘Megaera’. 

And they’d spend the next year or longer in Anchorhead, organizing and fighting and taking down more hutt slavers and making sure fewer people grew up like they did. It was a life worth having.


	2. Chapter 2

Anchorhead was more work than Mos Espa had been, but they’d expected that. However with two cities freed, attracting interested slaves was easier. Even with their identities being more at risk than ever, it was worth not having to talk to people in back alleys and brothels as the only way to start communication. 

They were using fake names that only they knew just in case, but they had to establish themselves in the city in order to have enough time to really build a force to take take it from the slavers. So they’d acquired a small house in the city. Anakin took mechanic jobs and Kanna and Kast got jobs in bars which put them in a position to have contact with slaves and slavers. They might move Anakin into the position of being a possible slave buyer later but for now they were working class people keeping their heads down like everyone else. 

They already had a some interest from certain areas. Enough to warrant finding a new headquarters. Anakin had found a building on the outskirts of the city that would work well. It wasn’t too big, was neutral and accessible for a lot of slaves.

They’d only bombed two slavers so far but the idea was to go slow. To see if their trademark methods attracted more slaves at a rate that didn’t make them vulnerable to attack before they were ready. With any luck he could start organizing combat classes soon. 

Anakin was currently home, getting ready for bed. Kast and Kanna would be at work for a few more hours. He and Kast had had sex a few more times since that first drunken night but decided it would be better to be friends sans benefits. There was work to be done and it would be a complication. He was relieved that it had ended before anyone had gotten their emotions involved. He loved cast in a platonic way and couldn’t see himself falling for his friend. And he wanted that. He’d gotten something important and needed from Kast and he’d always love his friend for it. But if he slept with someone again he would want it to be because they were both invested emotionally in each other beyond platonic camaraderie. Or as an act celebrating the fact that they weren't dead. Assuming he survived past the end of any given week. But for now he had his own room, a revolution to continue, and two very good friends. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan already had a headache and he’d only been on Tatooine for three hours. He’d gotten a room at an inn in Anchorhead and made his way to seediest bar he could find. Before he could try and help free the city, he had to find the revolutionaries. The petite bartender didn’t appreciate his line of questioning though. 

“Why does some posh guy come to my bar and start asking questions like that?” She’d shot right back at him after he’d inquired about the recent bombing of a well known slaver. 

He was thrown. He’d rarely been so fiercely and bluntly responded to. Though the girl’s midriff was bare her shoulders were covered by long sleeves. It was possible she was a former slave if the stories about chip removal scars were true. “I’m not a slaver. People are not things to be bought and sold.” He said honestly, sensing her distrust. 

“So what? Off worlders like you only come to bars like this for a few reasons. To buy sentients, to rent sentients, or to sell sentients.” 

“I’m not here for any of that. I ran into trouble and I’m laying low.”

“Laying low means asking about dead slavers?” 

The girl’s flawless dark skin and large eyes may have been misleading him about her age. She was far more calculating than the teenager he assumed her to be. 

“I was curious.” He took a leap. “I used to know someone from Tatooine. Not here but near Mos Espa. He was born into slavery and even though he escaped, it left a mark on him. Seeing the city freed was...heartening. It made me hope that fewer children would have to spend their childhoods as he did.” 

“What happened to him?” 

“I don’t know. I cared for him very much but I let him down. He left and I don’t blame him.” 

He downed the rest of his drink. There was hardly anyone else in the pub this time of day. 

“Look, say I believe you. If you hate slavery so much you should have gone to Mos Espa or Mos Doba. It’s still alive and well here.” 

“More anonymity here. Plus maybe the chance to help if I can. I can’t go back to where I’m from but there’s always the chance to do something good somewhere else. Maybe feel like I’ve done right by him finally.” 

He thought to play up his backstory but he found himself meaning every word. 

“And how would you want to ‘help’?” 

“However I can. I have combat training and I can work a few software languages.”

The girl looked at him seriously. “I might know someone who can help you. And that’s a big maybe. You’re still an off worlder and people who try and lie about their allegiances around here end up dead.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anyone to trust me without reason.” Obi-Wan replied evenly. Had he really been fortunate enough to already find a possible lead? 

“What’s your name?” 

“Ben.” 

“And where are you staying?” 

“At an inn in the eastern block of the city. The Shepherd’s Way.” 

“Come back here in three days and not sooner. 0100 hours standard time.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “And can I get your name?”

“Tara. Now get going before my clientele get off work and wonder why I’m talking to some posh off worlder.” Another nod and Obi-Wan was gone. 

He walked back to his hotel, even though it was a long walk. He’d still keep looking around of course but he was exhausted and had established at least one potential connection already. He figured this mission would be a long one. The council had estimated four months to find The Resistance, gain their trust, and help bring about a free Anchorhead. He was hoping to accomplish it sooner and put the planet and Anakin behind him for good. Tara had seemed genuine. And if it was a set up, well, he easily hid his ‘saber in his civilian robes. 

He slept for a few hours and comm’d the Council when he woke up, telling Mace that he’d made a possible contact and would go out again tonight to find possible leads. 

Sighing he considered that he may need to find more permanent lodgings. The inn was hardly luxurious but it might look suspicious if he stayed in it for more than a few weeks. For as long as it took, he was Ben Sonder. A man running from a shady former employer who had framed him for embezzlement. There was even a record in the Coruscant law archives detailing the case if anyone went looking and an emptied bank account in the name. The file included his name, a false history of his time in the Republic’s armed forces, and his honorable discharge. He hoped it would make The Resistance look upon him more favorably.

He set out into Anchorhead again, hoping to find more information.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin had been informed by Kanna that evening that some high class sounding off worlder had come in asking about anti-slavery efforts. He had a job to finish on a speeder but Kast would stake out the Shepherd’s Way tomorrow and follow the guy for a bit. Kast wasn’t as stealthy as Anakin but he could blend into the background when he had to. Anakin wasn’t sure why but he felt like he should be the one to go. However work was work and after the speeder job he had their first combat class to teach. He eyed the panel in the floor which concealed his ‘saber. To keep a lower profile he used a staff with ends that could electrify opponents when he fought in the streets. And staffs were useful as slaves could use multiple common objects as stand-ins in a pinch. 

He wasn’t sure why this was bothering him. He couldn’t remember the last time he meditated. Maybe he should. He’d hated severing his Training Bond and meditating without Obi-Wan had felt so empty afterwards. Like being in an abandoned house. But it had been three years. Maybe it was time to get back on the bantha. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan was being followed. He’d been aware of having a tail for the past twenty minutes. But he had been expecting as much. The man following him had been waiting outside his hotel so he figured it was someone Tara had contacted. He let the man follow him from bar to bar and got a look at his face when he’d been trying to act like he wasn’t a tail. He was a young man, dark brown hair, olive skin, not giving off any malicious energy but curious. So likely an associate of Tara and not a slaver following a nosy off worlder. 

He talked with a few patrons and bartenders but didn’t get far. After declining the second sexual advance in the same bar he left. It was dark and time to head back for the night. His tail was still there and it was time to confront him. He used the Force to find an empty alley nearby and turned down it, slowing a bit to make sure the man followed. When he did Obi-Wan pressed him against the wall, blaster in the man’s side before he could move. 

“Why are you following me?” He kept his face neutral and his voice flat. The other man didn’t flinch. 

“Ben Sonder of Coruscant. Heard you were asking questions about dead slavers.” Apparently they’d also accessed the hotel’s data system. Good. 

“I have been,” he relaxed his grip on the man’s neck. 

“To what end?” 

“I want to help if I can.” 

“And if you can’t?”

“If my interest is unappreciated I’ll go on with my life. It’s not like I don’t have problems of my own.” 

“Yeah. Embezzlement.” Hm. Impressive that they’d found that so quickly. 

“I was framed. But it doesn’t matter now. Even if I could clear my name I wouldn’t go back.”

“And why’s that?” 

“There’s nothing to go back to.” He holstered his blaster and stepped back from the man. The faint street lights played off the walls, casting blue and black shadows. “If you don’t want my help that’s fine. But I’m no slaver and I respond poorly to intimidation.” The man smiled a bit at that. 

“Okay then. You’re still good to meet Tara. But you won’t be meeting any higher ups for awhile. And stop asking around. You’ll draw too much attention. Keep a lower profile.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and the man left. Obi-Wan waited for a few minutes and left as well. They must be organized and have talent on their side if they’d already gone looking for his information and hacked his hotel. That meant it was likely the Resistance and not a separate faction. He walked back to the inn and spent the next day meditating. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So we think this guy checks out?” Anakin asked. Tonight was when the mysterious off worlder was supposed to meet Kanna at closing time. She’d talk to him with one of their other members waiting in case things got out of hand. 

“Seems so,” Kast said. “He definitely has combat training.” 

“And no visitors to or from his rooms,” Kanna added, pushing her braided hair behind her ear and looking at her datapad. “Which suggests he’s not here to rent slaves. Though he’s only been here for a few days.”

“We could use someone with formal military training,” Anakin said. “And another strategic thinker for strikes. But we’re at an important stage of recruiting. If he turns out to be working with slavers it could be a disaster.” 

“So you do some of your Jedi mind stuff to him,” Kanna said. 

“Jedi mind stuff?” Anakin smirked and she rolled her eyes. 

“Use the Force to see if he’s lying or whatever.”

“We really want to risk this guy seeing all three of our faces?”

“Wait for him in the back of the bar with Lorn and a get a reading on him.”

“So you trust him too?” Anakin knew she wouldn’t risk that unless she thought he’d turn out to be on their side. 

“I’d put my money on him. You learn a lot about people tending a bar. His sob story about an ex from Tatooine seemed legit. And he’s been keeping his head down like Kast told him to.” They really would need all the combat training possible for such a large city. And having an ally outside of the working class could be beneficial. 

“Okay. I’ll wait with Lorn then.” Lorn was a big guy with a huge beard and a gruff demeanor. He was also excellent in a fight and Anakin suspected, halfway in love with Kanna. He’d been with Anakin in the Mos Espa revolt and Anakin trusted him fully. He stood to stretch, knowing he’d need some sleep if he was going on a late night interrogation. Kast would be at work so he and Kanna, along with Lorn, would handle the new guy.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin got to the bar with Lorn an hour early. His hair was tied back haphazardly and no one batted an eye as they took a seat in the back. This time of night was mostly drunks intent on getting drunker. He and Lorn talked about speeders and drank crap beer. As the meeting time got closer and Kanna started pushing people out, Anakin focused on hiding his Force signature, just in case. He’d had a close call with a Sensitive on Mos Espa who worked for the hutts and wasn’t looking to repeat the experience. It took a lot of effort to simultaneously hide his presence and reach out through the Force but he could do it if he had to. He sunk into the corner and pulled his hood up, obscuring his eyes and nose and rested his head against his clasped hands. He didn’t need a visual if he was focusing on someone’s intent and Lorn had moved to face the bar more directly, using his height and build to look intimidating. 

Eventually the bar patrons were all gone and the man came in just as Kanna was about to lock the door. Anakin settled in further to the shadows and focused his mind. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan entered the bar as Kanna was locking up. He noticed two other people in the bar. A large man making a show of his heavily muscled crossed arms (with a heavily scarred shoulder) and another in the back corner who was concealing his face.

“They’re with me,” Kanna said, locking the door behind him. “Sit.” She gestured to a table near the bar and Obi-Wan sat as she pulled the shutters down so no one could see into the establishment. Then she took the seat opposite him. 

“So we did some digging on you. Your story checks out well enough. Your service with the Republic Armed Forces is impressive. And we honestly don’t care if you stole money from Core World bankers or not. So here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna have a talk, I’ll ask you some more questions, and my friends back there will help me consider your answers. Then you leave. And we contact you in a few days with a burner comm.” She tossed said comm onto the table and Obi-Wan pocketed it. “If we accept your help, you should know that this revolt is going to be bloody. We lost people in Mos Espa and Mos Doba. So if you’re doing this out of some misplaced sense of justice for an ex then you’re gonna need a better reason to stick with it. We’ll require you to help provide combat training and plan strikes with improvised bombs. This is not some Republic-friendly march for our rights. We don’t have the luxury of rallies and petitions. No one cares about us but us. Everyone else in this is a slave, so start trying to direct how we do things and it’ll go badly for you. We all survived trauma, rape, beatings, seeing loved ones sold off or blown to bits for trying to stand up for themselves. It's our skin in the game and we run this. Understood?” 

Obi-Wan was impressed by the speech. It made his own mission difficult but once he’d gained their trust perhaps he could sway them that losing fewer people would be worth trying to sit down. Or he could help dispatch the hutts faster if the situation called for it. The woman was indeed right that the people with the most to lose should set their own goals.

“Of course. I understand I come from a privileged position and that I’m an outsider. While I don’t follow orders blindly I wouldn’t assume any kind of leadership or command and won’t give opinions on things that don’t apply to me. That’s not my place.” 

He thought his answer was a good one going by Tara’s body language. But behind them he heard a table screech against the floor and turn over and before he could move the petite girl had a blaster on him. The man with the muscles was up, looking to Kanna for direction and Obi-Wan had his hands in the air, still seated. 

“Ben,” she said in a voice that promised violence. “We don’t like liars.” Her finger was on the trigger. Well, he thought calmly, this had gone bad rather fast. 

He was about to explain that he wasn’t a liar but another voice, the hooded man from the corner spoke up. 

“He wasn’t lying. Not about that.” And suddenly Obi-Wan couldn’t breathe. That voice was so familiar. He’d heard it laugh and cry out from nightmares and make sarcastic quips while piloting at insane speeds. But there was no-and then he felt it. The Force signature that had once been as familiar to him as his own. “You can put the blaster down.” Tara did so though somewhat reluctantly. 

Then Obi-Wan stood and turned and the world’s axis shifted. Anakin was standing there in dark robes, hair grown out long and with a few new scars on his face but his eyes were the same. Bright blue and looking just as confused as Obi-Wan felt. 

Neither of them knew what to say but they kept staring.

“You need to tell me who this is now,” Kanna said, cutting through the silence. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said in a strained tone. “Obi-Wan Kenobi. It’s really you.” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan smiled softly. He wanted to hug the other man but didn’t know if that would be welcomed. He didn’t know if Anakin had possibly wanted to never see him again. But before he could think of what else to say he had his arms full of former padawan. 

He embraced Anakin tightly, burying his face in the taller man’s chest. When he pulled back he was shocked that he didn’t have to wipe his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry I failed you.” 

“What? Obi-Wan, you didn’t fail me.” 

“I did. I didn’t pay enough attention to how unhappy you were and how poorly the Council treated you. It should have been my primary duty to care for you and guide you and I failed in that. When you left I-I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“No! It wasn’t that. I, you were the one good thing I had at the Temple. But there were things the Temple isn’t equipped to handle. Things that no one raised there would ever think about and it was too much. I’ve missed you.” 

And stars, if that wasn’t like feeling he could breath again. “I missed you too. Very much.” 

“I’m sorry I left you like that. I didn’t want to but I had to.” 

“You had every right.” 

“Um, sorry to break this up but why does he know your name?” Kanna asked, brow arched and hand still on her holstered blaster. 

“Obi-Wan was my Jedi Master,” Anakin said and Obi-Wan noticed Kanna’s eyes go wide at that. 

“Seriously? The Republic sent a Jedi to infiltrate us?” 

“I was sent to help, not infiltrate.” Obi-Wan said. 

“Why would the Order care about Tatooine?” Anakin asked. 

“The Order didn’t want to send me but Padme insisted. I believe she remembers you fondly.” 

“I haven’t thought of her since word about the Chancellor got out. At least one Senator cares about us I guess.” 

“Two. Do you remember the Duchess of Mandalore?” Anakin nodded. “Well, she and Padme married not long ago. They both insisted.” 

Anakin smiled at that. “Padme married and throwing her weight around in the Senate. I can see that happening pretty easily.” 

Obi-Wan grinned. “Quite.” 

“So you’re really here to help us?” Anakin asked. 

“Yes. I had to lie about the fake identity but I had planned on using it the whole time I was here. I do want to help, though.” 

“Can we trust that he doesn’t have some other agenda?” Lorn asked. 

“The Council probably asked you to do this peacefully, didn’t they?” Anakin asked. 

“They did. But missions get complicated. Things happen.” Obi-Wan smiled. While not risking lives was one of his goals, it was a long mission and long meant the potential for more things to ‘come up’. And Tara had spoken truly. Peaceful resistance was a luxury that not every situation or person had. Going after Palpatine had taught him that. 

“I remember when you roughed up that arms dealer who was helping people kill locals for the planet’s resources.” Anakin grinned. “When Master Windu asked about his black eye and broken wrist you just shrugged and told him it had been a bumpy ride back and not everyone saw the sense in seat belts.” 

“Safety protocols really are there for a reason,” he replied evenly, grinning only slightly at his former apprentice. 

“Anakin. As fun as this is, do you trust this guy to not report back information that could be intercepted and to actually work with us?” 

Anakin gave him a long, appraising look. “I do. Obi-Wan never lied to me. If he says he’s safe then he his.” Obi-Wan was a bit surprised. Three years ago his padawan had been more suspicious of people. Though he was a man now. One who’d apparently been a revolutionary for some time. 

“Okay. If you trust him then for now I'll buy it. I’m leaving with Lorn. We have places to be. Then the three of us need to talk tomorrow.” 

“Right,” Anakin said. He hesitated before his next words. “Obi-Wan would it, would you want to catch up?”

Obi-Wan swallowed. He logically knew he shouldn’t get close to Anakin again but he didn’t have it in him to say no to that. “Of course. We could go back to my room if you like.” Anakin nodded and Kanna saw them all out. 

Anakin pointed out his speeder in parked nearby and they rode back to the hotel in silence, Obi-Wan holding onto Anakin’s waist as he piloted. His head was spinning. What were the odds of ever finding Anakin again without meaning to? He was relieved to know that Anakin wasn’t aware of his affections and that he hadn’t driven the young man out. But still, there was so much left unsaid. He supposed he was unbelievably lucky that he might have the chance to say it. 

When they parked outside the inn he led the way to his room, though he was fairly certain that Anakin knew which one it was. When he’d closed the door he found himself being hugged again. Hugging back, they both held on for a long time. He offered Anakin some tea and they sat down in the small front room that had a couch and a holocomm station. 

“I thought about trying to find you,” Obi-Wan found himself saying as he sat down on the brown sofa. “But I knew if you had left then it was because you made the right decision for yourself.” 

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure if it was at first. I didn’t plan on becoming...well. What I am. I only wanted to stay long enough to get mom out and find a place for us to start over. But she showed me that I didn’t have it in me to just abandon the village to slavers. So we started fighting back. We took the village, then split up and took Mos Espa and Mos Doba. Now we’re here. Mom’s still in Mos Espa, running the first school there.” The way Anakin smiled proudly at that was worth so much. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled back. “Your signature is more at peace now. I’m glad you’ve found that for yourself. And sorry again that the Temple couldn’t offer you the peace or belonging it should have.” 

“It’s not your fault. I left because like I said, growing up like this, there are certain experiences that no one else can really understand. At least not most people. Things that I could push down for so long but they were coming up and I didn’t want anyone to pity me. I figured I’d rather be angry than pitied. And I was scared of having to encounter some of the things that slavery entails again. But fighting for this has let me heal a lot of old wounds. Three years ago I didn’t think I’d ever be able to be happy or not hate myself. But this has been worth everything.” 

Obi-Wan had never heard Anakin say so much at once and look so content at the same time. He’d heard him have angry rants or discuss things in a way that spoke of depression and cynicism. He really had found himself. 

“Being a revolutionary certainly seems to suit you. And I’m so proud to see you fighting for others. Not that you need my approval, but you have it along with my respect and gratitude.”

Anakin’s cheeks flushed at that and Obi-Wan tried not to find it endearing. “Why in the Sith Hells would I have your gratitude?”

“I learned much from you in our time together. In fact I still have your braid. I could never bring myself to get rid of it. I know the Council and I should have done better by you, but I’m grateful for the time you did spend with me. Some of my fondest memories are of those times.” 

“Thank you,” Anakin said softly. “I’m sure your next padawan will be able to cause explosions and throw tantrums too, though.” 

Obi-Wan barked out laugh at that. “I’ve informed the Order I’m never taking on another padawan, but some of the explosions were appreciated, even if I didn’t feel it proper to tell you so at the time.” 

Anakin laughed as well. “I was surprised to hear that Satine married. I thought that you and she were...close.” 

Obi-Wan ducked his head at that. “We had known each other a long time and while we flirted, it never really went beyond a mutually beneficial and temporary arrangement. Certainly nothing like the real love she has for Padme. We worked together as friends to out Palpatine as a Sith and we’re much better suited to that dynamic than anything else.”

“That’s good-I mean it’s good when you can realize that you’re better off as friends and have it be mutual.” Anakin was blushing again. “I mean I had an experience like that. It was more the excitement of still being alive after taking Mos Doba and knowing what it was like to almost not come out of a long and bloody battle that made us anything more than friends. Wartime comfort, I guess. Even though we’re not gonna have the love of the century he and I helped each other through some things at a time when we both needed it. And at the Temple I always struggled with attachment. And thinking no one would ever really want me.” 

“I seem to remember you having a few admirers among the other padawans,” Obi-Wan said gently. 

“Yeah, but it was just...physical or because I was the ‘Chosen One’. I didn’t think anyone would ever really know who I was and still find anything there worth having.” 

Obi-Wan’s heart broke at hearing that. He was about to apologize again when Anakin stopped him.

“It’s not your fault. Really. I was a kid who’d had a traumatic early life and didn’t know how to cope. You were still grieving for Qui-Gon when you took me on and the Council shouldn’t have done that to you. You were barely older than I am now. And maybe you weren’t Master of the Year, but you did the best you could. You never pried and you always made me feel safe. That was a feeling I didn’t have for the first nine years of my life. Are you-are you okay?”

Obi-Wan was wiping a tear from his eye. “Yes. I-I thought for a long time that it was me that drove you out and not the Council or the pressures of Temple life and being the Chosen One. With Qui-Gon dead and you gone, I considered leaving the Order, but I had nothing outside of it. Then there was a Sith in the Senate and eventually I found small reasons to stay. Feeling that I’d helped avert a war and seeing Padme and Satine married, then excited about expecting their first child. Teaching a class of younglings here and there and knowing they wouldn’t have to grow up in the chaos of war. Things that made the work I was doing seem more important than a stuffy Council and a lifetime of bland robes.” 

“You were the only reason I stayed as long as I did,” Anakin said sincerely. “When I wasn’t angry I was busy wanting someone I knew I couldn’t be with and that- I think that maybe we weren’t destined to be Master and padawan.”

“I concur. I remember in your note you said you’d felt love. I reached out to Padme to see if it was her you felt that for but she said that it wasn’t. It’s not my business but I am glad that you have found parts of yourself here that you couldn’t with the Order. I’ve seen first hand that love can help people against great odds and through hard times. You of all people deserve to find it.” 

“I-thank you. It’s so good to see you again. I mean, ideally we wouldn’t be organizing a rebellion, but I think we both left ideal a long time ago. If it were up to me I’d tell you everything about The Resistance that I know, but we don’t work like that.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to. I’ll respect whatever distance I’m asked to keep.” And he meant it. He’d deal with the fact that he felt his mission was secondary to Anakin later. 

“It’s getting late. I should head home. People to talk to tomorrow. Oh, you should know that I don’t go by Anakin here. It’s Li. No last name.” Obi-Wan nodded and stood to take their cups to the sink. 

He embraced Anakin again as the young man stood in front of the door and felt luckier than had any right to be. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Anakin said and he could only nod as the door closed behind him. Afterwards he considered his great fortune and his options. The Council was expecting him to check in with Mace tomorrow. He absolutely wouldn’t tell them about finding Anakin. Not only did they not deserve to know, but that information could be intercepted, like Tara had said. It was unlikely that any slavers were looking at him this early but he refused to chance it. He also wasn’t sure he wanted them to know how fast he’d found The Resistance. Tara and Anakin knew this fight much better than the Council or Republic did. It sounded as though Anakin had played a crucial role. If he cared about their cause at all he wouldn’t suggest they take some Core World approved route while slaves were being taken advantage of. He’d have to play this carefully. 

He realized he was in trouble. He’d risk lying to the Council if it meant protecting Anakin and the cause he was sacrificing everything for. Was he still in love with the man? Did he really know him the same way after three years apart? He wasn’t sure, but regardless, Anakin was his priority in this. He’d tell the Council the lead was a false start. It wasn’t as though they were invested in the mission. They’d rather he be catering to the whims of some politician in the name of Republic solidarity. 

Finally settling into bed, he felt good about his decision. It took him a long time to fall asleep as for the first time in three years, he was turning to memories of Anakin and feeling joy instead of sorrow. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Obi-Wan was here. He was going to fight with them. Last night in the man’s room felt unreal. Kanna was still suspicious of having a Republic agent in the mix and he didn’t blame her. Kast would be home soon and then the three of them would discuss it. He knew now why he’d felt he should've be the one to follow their mystery off worlder. 

He finished tossing together some spices for hard bread and curry he was making. The three of them shared domestic duties and it was his night to cook. He heard the front door open and knew it was Kast. Kanna was sleeping in until dinner was ready. He heard Kast enter the ‘fresher got the stove heated as he coated root vegetables and the small amount of bantha meat they had to the pot. 

By the time it was almost ready Kast entered the kitchen. 

“What are you so happy about?” He asked with an amused tone. 

“Turns out our mystery man is a friend of his,” Kanna said, entering the kitchen and yawning. 

“What?”

“It’s true,” Anakin said, depositing the food on the small table they shared and pouring water for himself. They all sat down and Anakin smirked, knowing that thanks to his mom, he was the best cook in the house. “He was using a fake name but he was my Jedi Master for ten years.” 

“Wait, the off worlder with the fancy accent is the man who trained you?” Kast’s eyebrows were raised in disbelief. 

“I know it’s crazy, but it’s true. I felt his Force signature and it’s him.” He smiled again around his forkful of curry. 

“Shit. But what’s a Republic agent doing here? The Core doesn’t give a kark about us.” 

“A Senator I was friends with heard about The Resistance and demanded that the Jedi Council help. They didn’t want to, but they sent Obi-Wan when she and her wife insisted.”

“And he’s not gonna try and tell us how to run things?” 

“He wouldn’t do that. I spent ten years with him and he always worked with people. He didn’t go in and start telling them how to live their lives.” 

“Did he ask you for information last night?” Kanna asked. 

“No. He said he’d respect whatever boundaries we gave him. And I didn’t volunteer anything. All he knows for sure right now is my real name.” 

Kast gave him a concerned look but Kanna spoke next. 

“Okay. And ten years isn’t nothing, I’ll admit that much. But if we bring him in, you’re responsible for him. You gotta make sure he isn’t leaking or telling the Republic about us. I can trace his comms but if he works with us, you gotta keep an eye on him.” 

“I would.” Anakin said solemnly. 

“So we’re doing this?” Kast asked. 

“What do you think?” Anakin knew without all three of them agreeing that it wouldn’t happen. He wasn’t sure what he’d do in that scenario. 

Kast took a minute to respond. “If you both still trust him, then I trust that. Republic ties aside, if Anakin says he spent ten years with the man and his priorities are straight, then we could benefit from having another Force user trained in combat around. Gods know your kill count is higher than anyone else’s and you’ve saved more lives during a fight than I could. And he’s clearly capable of undercover work if we need someone to talk to slavers for intel.”

“Okay, looks like your guy is in,” Kanna said, finishing her food. “I’m off for my shift. Anakin, you know the burner comm frequency. Contact him when you’re ready.”

“Got it. Are we still planning on bringing him in for combat training?”

“Makes the most sense,” Kast said. “And that way you’ll be the one to show him how we organize it.”

Anakin agreed happily. After Kanna left Kast helped him clean up. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” The dark haired man asked him. 

“You said you trust him if we do.” 

“And I do. But...it’s pretty easy for me to tell that this is the person you were hung up on. You’ve hardly ever smile like that.” 

“I-Yeah. I was. But I’m not the same person anymore. And neither is he. We talked last night and it’s good.” 

“Okay. I mean it’s not my place and if he’s good for you then I’m happy. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“We’re putting our lives at risk. There are worse things that could happen to any of us than getting our feelings hurt.”

“I know. But we take care of each other where we can. If Kanna came home all smiley over someone I’d wanna check in with her, too.” 

“True. And thanks. But I have a good feeling about this. If that changes, you’ll be the first to know.” And Anakin was thankful for his friends. They were more like family at this point. They’d all seen each other fight, cry, lose it over a threat or fallen friend. They trained together and watched out for each other. 

Kast’s dark eyes looked relieved at that. “Okay. I’m off on recruitment. See you in the morning.” 

Anakin nodded and prepared himself for the second combat session in their new headquarters. They always started small, with no more than five or so people at a time and himself and someone like Lorn to co-train and provide backup in case anyone was hiding their motives. He’d already smuggled makeshift staffs in and he’d have his blaster in case. It was going to be a long night with an early morning of showing up for a patch job on someone’s comm system. But they had to keep their covers and build a force willing and able to take on slavers. Their shifts never really ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I need to finish my Omegaverse fic and SAM, but this was speaking to me today.


	3. Chapter 3

Obi-Wan still couldn’t quite believe that he’d found Anakin again. In Anchorhead of all places and well entrenched in a rebellion. It was probably unbecoming of a Jedi Master to smile so much to himself but he couldn’t really care at the moment. He’d just finished informing the Council that he’d been off on a false lead and now he’d wait until he was contacted on the burner comm. 

It had been almost too easy to lie to the Council. They were so preoccupied with the Senate that it was painfully obvious how little they cared about some fool’s errand of a mission to Tatooine. He considered contacting Padme or Satine but decided it was better to wait on that front as well. He couldn’t trust anyone with Anakin’s whereabouts. Not until Anakin himself consented to that information getting out. 

He distracted himself with busy work for several hours. Catching up on old reports and and using the holonet to look for a more permanent living situation than the hotel. After a couple of weeks it would become suspicious for someone to stay in Anchorhead without either having a reason to stay or finishing their business and leaving. 

Sometime after midday his burner comm went off. “This is Ben,” he said coolly.

“Ben, it’s Li. Mind if I come by soon? We can talk about those speeders you were interested in.” 

“Of course. See you shortly.” 

It made sense that Anakin would come to his room. Though it was one more reason he’d likely need an actual flat of some kind soon. In less than an hour he was ushering the young man in and using the Force to double check that he hadn’t been followed. He hadn’t but the dark rings under Anakin’s eyes were almost as alarming. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” He bolted the door behind the younger man. 

Anakin yawned widely. “No. Haven’t slept in a couple of days. Between work and...other work there hasn’t been much time. Don’t worry. We used to go a couple of days without sleep while on missions all the time.” 

“Yes, but this isn’t a mission for you. It’s your life. At least have some tea. Running on the cheap caf here can’t be good for you.” Anakin smiled at that at least and accepted a cup of tea. Before he took a second sip he was extracting a data pad from his bag and settling in on the couch. 

“Look. This is a building where I’m training new recruits. There’s not a session tonight but I’m going to take you there so you can get a feel for it. I’ll run you through some of the combat drills we teach. After a few sessions of co-teaching with me you’ll be given your own cohort. I don’t think I need to tell you that slavers and their allies are on the lookout for us here. They’ll do whatever they can to prevent Anchorhead from turning into another Mos Espa or Mos Doba. Slaves here are already seeing their owners take more interest in their whereabouts so it’s imperative that no suspicions be raised and no one is followed. We might ask you to go undercover as a slaver at some point but we haven’t decided yet.” 

“Understood. Am I to take it that you hold a position of some influence in the organization?” 

“I do. But like I said, I can’t just tell you everything. It’s not just up to me.” Anakin’s vivid blue eyes held a bit of remorse. 

“And again, I wouldn’t ask you to. I contacted the Council this morning and told them I had gotten a false lead. As far as they know I haven’t found The Resistance or anyone connected to it. I won’t give them anything on your activities unless you want me to.” 

“Obi-Wan. I know you were never the biggest fan of the Council, but couldn’t you be in serious trouble for blatantly lying to them?” 

“I’m using my best judgment and discretion to keep a movement safe. The Council will understand that even if they don’t like it.” Anakin grinned at that. 

“It’s good to work with you again. Hopefully things will go more smoothly for us with two trained Force Users around. No one was expecting us to take Mos Espa or Mos Doba so quickly but we won’t have the advantage of being underestimated here. We also need to get you set up with a weapon that isn’t a ‘saber. Staffs have come to represent the movement but it’s your call.” Anakin yawned widely again. 

“Do you need to show me this training building anytime soon?” 

“No. It would be better if we waited until after dark.”

“Take the couch or the bed, your call. I’m not the cook you are but I can scrape something together.” 

“You’re not my Master anymore. You can’t force me to take a nap.” Anakin smiled widely as he said it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But I can insist that a young man who’s clearly exhausted get a few hours of sleep while he can.” 

“Fair enough. And I’m totally taking your bed.” 

Obi-Wan huffed fondly as Anakin headed into the back room. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin usually had a hard time sleeping in places that were new to him. But having Obi-Wan’s scent on the bedding put him at ease immediately. It reminded him of all the times they’d taken turns sharing a small small bed or slept back to back on missions. How he’d always felt safe then no matter how dangerous things got. 

He slept peacefully for a solid three hours. When he stretched out and checked his comm he couldn’t believe how comfortable he was. Nor could he remember the last time he slept so well. Rubbing at his eyes he wandered back into the primary room. 

“You were right. I definitely needed that.” He shook his head and sat on the couch as Obi-Wan finished putting something that looked like blue rice and and yucca root into bowls. 

“I thought you might. Here. I regret I never developed the talent for seasoning that you did but it’s edible.” Anakin took the bowl he was offered. 

“It’s not bad,” he said after chewing the first bite. “Though I blame all the years of bland Temple food you suffered. I know Jedi are supposed to live simply but it’s like they want you to be allergic to flavor.” 

“Ha! You may have a point. The first time I had Togruti fare on Shilli was incredibly unpleasant. Qui-Gon found it amusing that my stomach rejected spices so vehemently but I most definitely did not.” 

“I missed my mom’s cooking so much at the Temple. It’s a miracle I got so tall after forcing myself through every meal there.” 

“You never said anything,” Obi-Wan said, sounding concerned. 

“I didn’t want to be a problem. It wasn’t a terrible hardship or anything.” 

“Still, there’s much the Temple wasn’t prepared for in terms of an older charge, as you pointed out.” 

“It worked out,” Anakin shrugged. “Mom is as happy as I’ve ever seen her and I did get to have her cooking again. And see you which I didn’t think I’d ever get. Can’t really ask for more than that. If I get taken out by a slaver tomorrow then I can say it was all worth it.”

Obi-Wan frowned at that. “Don’t say such things. I very much object to you being ‘taken out’.” 

“Just saying. We’ve had some close calls out here and this line of work gets dangerous.” 

“I understand danger. I suppose I just dislike the idea of you in mortal peril after spending three years hoping that you were alive and safe.” 

Anakin felt guilty at that and ducked his head. “I’m sorry about that. I never meant to make you worry.” 

“I know. But as you said, we did find each other. And I consider that a gift.”

Anakin felt his face heat up at that. He didn’t know if he was still in love with his Master but he wasn’t about to admit to it if he was. “It’s not nice to make your former Padawan blush. But we should get going now that the suns are down.” 

“Am I to assume we’re taking that deathtrap you call a speeder?” 

“What happened to this being a gift?” They were both grinning ear to ear on their way down to said speeder.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If Obi-Wan didn’t have any actual protests to make at holding onto Anakin’s waist on the ride to the outskirts of Anchorhead then well, he was keeping that to himself. 

The warehouse itself wasn’t overly large but was fine for training some smaller groups. It also had a stable second level which Anakin mentioned using for blaster practice. 

“So, I’ve already cleared most of the debris out and we’ve had two sessions here. I’ve been leading with Lorn spotting and helping out. Most slaves have seen a few fights by the time they’re thirteen but some haven’t. Others have been beaten so are reluctant to throw hits. Typically people warm up to using combat as a tool after a few sessions but if they don’t we let them know that while defending themselves is important, there are other ways to help.” 

“Does that happen often? People being totally adverse to combat training?” 

Anakin twirled a staff idly. “Not too often, no. But having high stakes in this game means some might be more afraid than usual. If you notice anyone have a hard time or showing high levels of anxiety let me know and we can decide how to handle it from there.” 

“Right. So what kinds of drills are you starting with?” 

Anakin grinned at that. “We start with hand to hand. Once a group has mastered those techniques we move to staff and blaster training. Hand to hand focuses on three areas. Disarming an armed opponent, ground fighting, and efficient strikes to that tend to be sensitive on humanoids. Major nerve clusters, pressure points, that kind of thing. Kanna teaches a class just for women but that doesn’t usually get going until later in the process. We teach everyone from children to old folks so a lot of the teaching is about presenting it in a way that the person can grasp. I’ll show you the first set of hand to hand. Ready?” 

Obi-Wan could only grin as Anakin leaned his staff against the wall and assumed a solid fighting stance. Anakin showed him the basic maneuvers they used to train new recruits. Most were easy enough. Obi-Wan was the armed opponent in the scenarios. Some of the drills were taken straight from the Temple but others were more direct and brutal. There was no focus on the art of combat, simply the straight forward need to end a threat. 

After a solid half hour of working through the basic drills again and again, Obi-Wan easily memorized the set. Another half hour and he felt comfortable teaching said techniques. They were both panting a bit but far from exhausted. 

“I have to admit,” Obi-Wan said, standing from having been thrown onto his back, “I do miss our sparring sessions.” 

Anakin smiled in response. “Me too. We used to draw decent crowds at the Temple. You were all precision and power. I usually got my ass handed to me until I was seventeen.” 

“Yes, and then I had to really be on my toes. You were a fast learner. Despite not holding a ‘saber until you were eleven you quickly outstripped many other Padawans at the Temple.” 

“I used to practice until I couldn’t move when you were stuck in meetings. I was never much good at meditating but wearing myself out until I could barely think straight was almost as good.” 

Obi-Wan looked around the dusty warehouse. “Don’t suppose you have your ‘saber on you?” 

“Is my former Master suggesting that a non-Jedi spar with him?” 

“Just asking if a friend is up for some competition. After all, how would it reflect on me if I trained a revolutionary who doesn’t keep up with his training?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what it meant that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. But it felt too good to question. 

“I’d be happy to lay your fears to rest, but it’ll have to be some other time. I keep my ‘saber hidden these days. Can’t afford drawing attention too early.” Anakin looked honestly disappointed. “Plus it was...difficult for me to use it and not think of you. I almost left it behind. But then I remembered finding my crystal and how you believed me when I said it showed me things.” 

“I remember that trip. I hope now you can attribute better associations with your weapon.”

“You don’t think I don’t deserve to have it?” Anakin asked shyly, looking at the floor. 

“Of course not. You deserve it just as much as any other Knight. You may have left the Order but no one can take your training or the Force from you. I joked about my legacy in training you, and while I can’t speak for anyone else, you will only ever make me proud in using your lightsaber.” 

Anakin sat down against the wall heavily. In the dimly lit room he looked very small, so Obi-Wan sat next to him. “Thank you. I-things here have gotten so dark sometimes. Every time I think I’m a little more used to losing people in a fight or hearing about something a slaver did because they suspected someone might be with our cause, I witness something even worse. I used to feel like I didn’t deserve to be a Jedi because of how I grew up. Even after I left I sometimes felt like I didn’t deserve my ‘saber.” 

Obi-Wan put his arm around Anakin’s shoulders even though the younger man’s height made it a bit awkward. “Your crystal called to you. With or without the Order, that makes it yours for however you choose to use it.” Obi-Wan had felt anger with the Council many times, but perhaps never as much as he did then. When Anakin left he’d blamed himself as well. But here was a young man who was risking everything to fight for people who needed his help. The idea that he was somehow undeserving of a weapon he’d forged with his own hands was outrageous. 

Later that night after Anakin had dropped him off at his hotel, insisting with a small smile that he couldn’t stay because he had responsibilities to attend to, Obi-Wan found himself lost in thought. While Anakin had never been a model Padawan, he’d been driven and eager to prove himself. He’d been so insecure in the strange world of the Temple and Obi-Wan was only just now really seeing that. Here on a planet he’d hated as a child, Anakin was more at home than ever. He was calm, aware of his place and his duties in a way he’d never been in the Order. 

Tomorrow night he’d co-teach a class with Anakin. And truth be told he couldn’t wait. Even when they’d been angry with each other they’d always worked well together. He knew he was attached but honestly, sod the Council. If Anakin could see them now he’d be disgusted at how they were fawning over the Senate in the wake of Palpatine’s death. Hell, they’d wanted Obi-Wan to start making speeches to further cement the Order’s place in the Republic. It was the first time he’d really understood the pressure put on Anakin from a young age. And it was terrible. 

But tomorrow he’d have a chance to work side by side with Anakin again. He’d do everything he could to help ensure a free Tatooine. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin knew he was likely unreasonably happy about seeing Obi-Wan. After three years it was like nothing had changed. Well, that wasn’t true. The man was no longer his mentor, though they’d always been friends first and Master/Padawan second. But now there was no odd power  
dynamic where Obi-Wan could pull rank. Not that he did that often so much as he would sit Anakin down with a lengthy story of his own training. But now they were just friends. 

“Oh god, you’re smiling again,” Kanna said with a wary look as she went about emptying the current pot of caf and making a new one. 

“My only good memories of being a Jedi were with Obi-Wan. It’s good to be working with him again.” He sipped his own caf, wondering if he could find the tea Obi-Wan had given him nearby. 

Kanna sat next to him on their bare sofa and pulled her knees against her chest. “And when Anchorhead is over?” Her dark eyes were concerned but not judgemental. Well, only slightly judgemental. 

Anakin shrugged. “I don’t know. But whether he takes off and I never see him again or not, I think it was good that we got closure. He knows that I didn’t leave because of him and I..know that I wasn’t broken or crazy for not being able to cope with living like a monk.” 

“Okay, good. Something tells me thing here are gonna get rough. So I’m glad you have that.” Kanna pushed her locs behind her ear in a futile gesture. 

“And what about you?” 

“What about me?” She sat up straighter at that and Anakin smiled. 

“You spend more time with Lorn than strictly necessary. He’s not just your muscle.”

“I-I can’t let myself think about that until Anchorhead is free. It wouldn’t be right to have people depend on me and then make a stupid mistake because I was distracted.” 

Anakin sobered at the thought, realizing that Kanna had a point. They were asking slaves to trust them with their lives. They always had been, but he couldn’t afford to let anyone, not Kast or Kanna or Obi-Wan, come before the mission of a free Tatooine. 

“Besides,” Kanna continued more lightly, “it’s nice to just...be what we are right now without the pressure to be more. You should stop chugging caf and get some sleep if you’re gonna teach tonight.” 

“Says the woman who’s recruiting two nights in a row. But I might check out an opening at a the hangar for a mechanic. It would be better money and I could get an idea about who’s coming and going here.” 

“That might complicate things if we needed to use you as a slaver.” Kanna kanna sipped out of her tin mug and Anakin contemplated the cheap stone and durasteel walls. 

“True. But Obi-Wan would be far better suited for that, if it turns out we need to do so at all.” 

“Alright. Now shoo. I’m claiming the couch as a nap spot.” Anakin smiled and headed out to the hangar.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At an hour after midnight standard time, Obi-Wan was waiting outside the warehouse as he felt Anakin’s familiar presence approaching. The feel of the younger man in the Force made him want to re-establish their Training Bond, though he wouldn’t bring that up with Anakin. He wasn’t expecting the five gallons of water and satchel of ration bars that Anakin had strapped to his transportation. 

“Good hosts provide for their guests,” the younger man shrugged. 

Then in total silence he helped Anakin get his speeder and supplies inside. Just as they did, two slaves showed up. They were both human men wearing ratty linen trousers and shirts with close cropped hair. Their skin was darker than his or Anakin’s but some of that could have been dirt. 

“I’m Li, thanks for coming,” Anakin said evenly. "We’re gonna get food and water set up but feel free to have some before or after. Or both.” 

“I’m Jai, this is Cutter,” the shorter of the two said. Once An-Li, Obi-Wan reminded himself. Once Li had the water set up both men drank deeply. As they did a Twi’lek woman and a boy who might be her son showed up, followed by a handful of others. Some of them nodded to Li with a bit of familiarity. The boy finished off an entire ration bar even though it might cause him to cramp up during training. But he looked like he very much needed it so no one said anything. By a quarter after the hour they had about fifteen recruits. The Twi’lek boy with the light blue skin looked to be the youngest at around twelve and the oldest was a woman in her fifties. 

Li set everyone up with partner who roughly matched each other’s size as best he could. He used Obi-Wan to demonstrate the drills and worked with people who had been there before on improving technique. The class was off to a relatively smooth start. Until Obi-Wan noticed that the Twi’lek boy was clearly uncomfortable with being separated from his mother. He was working with another boy who looked to be in his teens but every time the human teenager made the lunge, the Twi’lek boy flinched. 

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said kindly, approaching the pair. “You two alright?” He did his best to present a rougher accent, more like Li’s. 

“Of course, sir,” the boy said immediately. 

“No titles here. I’m Ben. What’s your name?” 

“Di’ca.” Obi-Wan looked up to see Li approaching. 

“I got this one, Ben,” he said, standing near the boy. 

“Di’ca, is it okay if I put my hands on your shoulders so I can help your stance?” 

The boy’s eyes went a bit wide for a moment but he nodded tersely. At this point Di’ca’s mother was watching carefully. Anakin helped the boy position himself and told his partner to announce when he was moving in for an attack by saying where he was going for. The other young man caught on immediately and soon the pair were working well together. Obi-Wan made himself useful elsewhere but something about the boy’s apprehension to touch pulled at his mind. As class wrapped up after an hour and a half of drilling he realized what it was. Anakin had responded the same way to almost anyone else touching him. Sometimes he even flinched when Obi-Wan would put an arm around his shoulders if he didn’t see it coming. Clearly Anakin could recognize those signs in someone else. The knowledge brought both pride in his former student and sadness. 

After class they took posts on either side of the warehouse with their comms and sent pairs and small groups back into the city in spaced out increments and along different paths. Most people didn’t begrudge slaves being out to buy a pint on their down time but caution in the early stages of training meant fewer problems down the line. Once everyone was cleared Anakin drank a bit from the little that was left in the water drum. The ration bars were gone as they’d sent people home with what was left. 

“You did great for your first class,” Anakin smiled after most of the lights had been extinguished. “I can tell a few of the people who came back appreciated having you here. Lorn is good too, he’s just not particularly approachable.” 

“You have a way of connecting with people. I’d never seen you reach out to others like that. It suits you. Especially how you worked with Di’ca.” 

Anakin frowned a bit at that. “Yeah. I hate seeing kids in that situation. The kind of fear you grow up with as a slave. His sister came last time without him. I think she’s his only family now. I hope we can find a place for him before he’s too old to pass for a boy without people asking questions.” 

That startled Obi-Wan a bit. “Di’ca’s not a boy?” 

Anakin huffed at that. “I mean possibly. But if he wants to continue passing he’ll need medical treatment before long. If he’s only feigning because Twi’lek girls get sent off to worse fates than being house slaves then...like I said. It’s pretty common on Tatooine. If I had appeared female at birth then my mom would have chopped my hair and dressed me as a boy, too. Not that that always stops certain kinds of attention.” Anakin’s signature had a dark presence now. Not the malevolent darkness he started developing after he turned fifteen. More like the dark grey of things not pleasant to dwell on. Obi-Wan realized just how woefully unprepared the Temple was for younglings not raised there. 

“Is that why he…”

“Flinched at touch? Yeah. You’ll see it a lot. Beatings, sexual assault. They manifest in odd ways sometimes. Aversion to touch or sometimes a need to constantly be touching and earning praise. Some kids can’t stand touch, others can’t stand anything that might look like disapproval because they’ve come to associate that with something bad happening to them. Working with them and letting them know that you respect the boundaries they set usually goes a long way in putting them at ease. If they really don’t do well with physical training then we’ll set them up with something they’re more comfortable with like running errands or digging up history on people. We try not to involve anyone under twelve if we can help it though. Ready to head back?” 

Obi-Wan could only nod. The ride back to his hotel his head was spinning. He barely realized that Anakin let himself in until he was making them both tea. 

“I shouldn’t come here so often,” Anakin said. “If someone notices I’ve been to a nice hotel they might get curious. But I do miss your tea.” 

Obi-Wan smiled a bit at that and sat next to his former Padawan.

“Why so quiet?” Anakin nudged Obi-Wan’s knee with his own. 

“I suppose I’ve always had the luxury of being a complete outsider in missions that got anywhere close to this level of the atrocities of certain institutions. I’m realizing that all the times you and I were on a mission and how strongly you’d react to seeing someone suffer..I thought I understood but I didn’t. Not really.” 

“You didn’t have to. I knew even if it wasn’t always personal for you that you cared. About the people and about me. You were never just about the mission objective and the report that you showed the Council. Hell, I might be the only one who knows how much was left out of some of those reports.” 

“Hah. You are at that. You always kept me from being a mindless agent of the Order.” 

“Oh, please. You were the one who taught me how to break rules without getting caught. My first Life Day as your Padawan involved you taking me to some diner halfway across the planet because I mentioned wanting to try Mon Calamari style seafood. Then you told Master Windu that we’d spent the day training on active meditation.” 

Gods, he’d nearly forgotten. “We were both stuffed. I do remember that. We never did have the traditional Master/Padawan dynamic.” 

“Nah. But we were better than that.”

The quiet way in which Anakin said it made Obi-Wan feel pleasantly warm. He leaned back against the sofa, remembering the restaurant they’d gone to. Bant had loved the place and he’d known that Anakin would, too. 

“But seriously, Obi-Wan. You’ll see things that are hard to stomach here. But you’re helping and that’s what matters. If it starts weighing on you and you can’t just...give it to the Force or whatever, talk to me. Gods know I wouldn’t have made it through in one piece without friends. I wasn’t so different from Di’ca when Qui-Gon found me.” 

“Mm. You were quite taken with Padme then if I recall.” 

“Hah. I wasn’t ‘taken’ so much as I understood that Padme was safe. She was closest to my age and well, not a strange man I didn’t know. Besides, for better or worse everyone I’ve ever been...attracted to has been a man. Which was maybe harder to get used to.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Anakin raised his head from where he’d been lying back on the sofa as well. “Just..being assaulted as a youngling by men and then realizing you might have to learn how to love one. It wasn’t easy.” 

Obi-Wan felt whatever might be in his stomach turn to lead. His own Padawan and he’d never known? 

“Hey, don’t look like that. It was way before I ever met you.” 

“It doesn’t change the fact that I-”

“Obi-Wan.” He’d rarely heard his name as a full sentence like that since Qui-Gon’s passing. “Look at me. In the eye.” And of course he met that blue gaze head on. “I didn’t tell you that so that you’d feel bad about something that you can never change. I told you because it was part of why I left and it was something that I only...got back for myself a year or so ago. And I found it because I came back and started doing something about how slaves on Tatooine grow up. Please don’t look at me like I’m to be pitied. I couldn’t handle that from you.” 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them that sky blue gaze still had him. “Anakin. I have known you for years and the last thing I would ever presume to saddle you with is pity. I do thank you for trusting me with that though. And while I might have to work on the urge to murder anyone who hurt you as a child, that’s because you’re my friend.” The look on Anakin’s face was such a relief that Obi-Wan knew he’d been given a test of sorts and passed. 

“Hey, I’ll totally beat people up for you, too.” Anakin grinned. And just like that everything felt right again. “I should be going though.”

“You can stay if you prefer. Though I understand if you have other commitments.”

“This sofa is definitely nicer than my pallet. You drive a hard bargain but I accept.” 

As Obi-Wan drifted off that night, sensing Anakin already asleep on the couch, he wondered not for the first time what exactly he’d gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter but they needed to clear the air a bit more before other events progress. Thanks as always for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I'll write something besides Obikin. Honest.


End file.
